Uneasy daily life

Compared to then, things seem even more contradictory now; the more I think about it, the more complicated and painful it feels.

Kaede Azusagawa subconsciously tugged at Sakuta Azusagawa's sleeve, then looked up with a hint of timidity and asked, "Brother... Kaede and... Kaede... um, it's nothing..."

Kaede Azusagawa lowered her head, pretending nothing was wrong.

Sakuta Azusagawa was taken aback. This was the first time Kaede had mentioned Hanakaze to him. Even though Kaede hadn't finished speaking, he could understand what she meant.

Aren't I and Ms. Xiangzi in the same situation? This dilemma, seemingly offering a choice, is actually a problem where there is no choice at all...

"I do not know."

"Ugh?"

Kaede Azusagawa looked up in surprise at Sakuta Azusagawa's profile.

Sakuta Azusagawa repeated, "I don't know, Kaede. Because I can't choose, I don't know."

Azusagawa Kaede looked away in confusion, but felt inexplicably happy inside.

I don't know... Does that mean that in my brother's heart, I am as important as Hua Feng?

My brother has been living with Hua Feng for over ten years, while I've only been living with him for a little over a year. No matter how I look at it, Hua Feng is definitely more important.

Kaede Azusagawa couldn't help but feel a little happy.

Sakuta Azusagawa felt strange. No wonder Shiro kept trying to push back the time when Kaede disappeared, at least until the summer movie season... Thinking about it carefully, the terrible movie we just saw did explore some philosophical questions about 'who am I', if you understand it from that perspective...

People who try to understand bad movies have probably lost their aesthetic sense.

There's another movie coming up later. What will it be about? What's the point of making Feng face those difficult and unavoidable situations?

Sakuta Azusagawa glanced at Shoko Makinohara on the other side and calmed down.

Inside the movie theater, some viewers left with question marks and angry expressions, while others who had bought tickets for the next showing took their seats.

Okita, his face serious, scrutinized each audience member, no longer considering Nian a competitor—what a joke! To consider that kind of film as a competitor would only lower one's own standards! What level am I at? What level is she at? I should be aiming for the throne of the summer box office champion!

Tsk, why is the attendance so low? It's even lower than that of the director of that lousy movie.

It's just a low-budget art film after all, but whatever, its rating will definitely be higher than that big-budget flop!

"huh huh huh huh……"

Mai Sakurajima: "What is the director laughing at?"

Bai Ying: "To gain a sense of superiority in culinary skills by meticulously tasting feces."

Okita Tadashi: "#!"

The movie has started; this is clearly not the time to argue.

Kaede Azusagawa couldn't help but focus intently on the screen.

As night fell, the bustling streets remained crowded with people. The camera zoomed into an entrance to the street and slowly climbed the stairs. The neon lights outside gradually dimmed, and the motion-activated lights in the stairwell, worn out from years of use, emitted a weak light that flickered from time to time.

The camera stops at the corner of the stairwell, a cigarette is lit, and as the smoke billows out, the vision blurs, as if one has entered another world.

Footsteps suddenly came from the stairs.

[Is that a brothel?]

As the man murmured to himself, a woman appeared from around the corner of the stairs above, casting a slightly surprised glance at him.

Her long, black hair was smooth and flowing, part of it styled into a bun on her head, while the rest cascaded down to her waist. Two strands of hair fell across the curve of her chest, highlighting her mature and slender figure. The hem of her white dress fell below her knees, revealing her straight, slender calves and a pair of feet clad in sandals, showing off her delicate toes. Her beautiful face was lightly made up, with a touch of bright red on the tips of her pale pink lips, giving her a hint of allure.

Her deep eyes glanced at the camera before looking away. She stood at the corner above, calmly taking out her phone.

The camera then turned away, and the person continued to silently smoke.

"Why don't you watch it?"

A slightly hoarse female voice came through, tinged with emotion: "Is it because it's unattractive, or are you afraid it will offend your eyes?"

The camera suddenly zoomed out, revealing a man leaning against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked up at the woman coming down the stairs, and his reply was completely nonsensical: "I just got back from working overtime. I was criticized by my boss, who was in a bad mood, for over ten minutes. I barely met my performance target for today, and I still have to go home and prepare dinner... I'm not in a good mood at work, so let's not talk and just rest."

The woman paused for a moment, softened her tone slightly, but still couldn't help but say sarcastically, "I'm really not in a good mood at work, if you count as working."

"Why not?" the man said calmly. "It's just selling your time to life."

“I’m not exactly short of money,” the woman said with feigned interest, as if deliberately trying to provoke her. “Statistically speaking, I’m actually one of those people who have a bit of money…”

"But you still have to go to work."

"..."

The woman fell silent, then said softly, "A man who is petty and calculating is very annoying."

"What a coincidence, I hate the feeling of being liked." The man chuckled dismissively. "In school, teachers should like excellent students, and the students who are liked should perform well. Parents should like filial children, and the children who are liked should also be filial. In the workplace, bosses like capable and sensible employees, and the employees who are liked should also be capable and sensible. What kind of person should be liked... Society's standards are called 'should,' and I hate 'should.'"

The woman succinctly replied, "Long-winded explanations are annoying to listen to."

“That’s a good thing,” the man replied. “Understanding it would only add to your troubles.”

The cigarette had burned down to the end. The man stubbed it out and, in the flickering motion-activated light, turned and walked into the dimly lit depths of the stairwell.

The woman rolled her eyes, picked up the cigarette butt, went upstairs and threw it into the trash can, then stepped into the ambiguous and gentle light of the signboard.

……

Should I... should I be Kaede? Should I be the Kaede who has past memories and is completely different from myself?

Azusagawa Kaede watched quietly, her feelings somewhat complicated.

I also hate the idea of ​​"should be". I hate those days in the hospital when I was trying to act out "how Huafeng should be". Even though I tried my best to act, my mother... my brother's mother still fell ill and was hospitalized. My brother's father was also worried every day.

……

The woman was wearing a T-shirt and shorts today, with light makeup. She squatted casually at the corner, exuding a youthful nonchalance, but her face carried a silent restlessness.

Footsteps came from downstairs. She looked up at the man coming upstairs and greeted him casually, "Finished working overtime?"

"Ready to go to bed?"

The man replied curtly, stopped in his tracks, and habitually pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a click.

"That's slander," the woman said casually. "The brothel doesn't provide that kind of service. We just have friendly conversations with customers, offer psychological counseling, and sell tea on the side. In the process, we accidentally fall in love, and then we do things that couples usually do. But after we're done, we have a fight, and the love just vanishes in an instant. The boyfriend gives the girlfriend some money, and we break up peacefully."

"What a coincidence, you're slandering us too." The man smiled faintly. "Our company's employees are all positive and motivated role models who strive for the company's future and their own careers. At the same time, the company's articles of association fully comply with legal regulations, there is absolutely no overtime work, and we are inclusive and open, providing employees with platforms and resources free of charge so that they can improve their abilities in their spare time, strive for their dreams, and become more outstanding talents."

The two looked at each other seriously and then burst out laughing at the same time.

After laughing, they fell silent again. One person smoked in the corner below, while the other played on his phone in the corner above.

“I met a customer yesterday who advised me to quit this line of work,” the woman suddenly said. “I’ve met that customer many times. He probably saw a shadow of his memories in me. He always likes to dress younger, but doesn’t want to look too young, he wants me to look more mature… He also wants to be my boyfriend, saying he’ll take care of me in the future. What do you think?”

The man said succinctly, "I'm a reject of society, I can't be your life advisor."

"I find it quite baffling, but it's strange what he was thinking," the woman asked with interest. "You're a man, so you should understand better, right? What do you think is going on?"

The man thought for a moment and said, “Men have a savior complex, or a hero complex—heroes and saviors need the recognition, obedience, and following of others. As long as they have these, they will feel the pleasure of power by having others submit to them… Men are slaves to power. They crave to ‘save’ you in order to satisfy themselves.”

"Of course, I'm just making do with what I'm saying, so please bear with what I'm saying."

The woman narrowed her eyes and smiled slightly, "You're not just making things up; you're even more precise than the teacher who taught me how to serve customers."

“I’m not your savior,” the man suddenly said. “Feelings are the catalyst for price; you should understand that better than I do.”

He tossed aside his finished cigarette and walked away from the corner.

The woman watched his retreating figure, her thoughts slowly filling with memories.

I forget when it started, but I've gotten into the habit of adjusting my mood in this place where almost no one passes by, trying to enjoy a moment of quiet and solitude, in order to vent the silence and frustration of having to deal with others, and to make myself more positive in the face of everything.

It's absurd that a prostitute should learn how to serve customers and become a better prostitute.

When the woman was calming herself down at the corner of the stairwell, she could always hear footsteps coming from downstairs. Every time, she would quickly walk a few steps up from the corner and peek down at the man returning home. He would always walk to the corner and not go straight home, but instead lean against the wall, take out a cigarette and light it.

Sometimes, he would smoke very hard, burning a cigarette to ashes in just a few puffs. Sometimes, he would stare blankly, letting the cigarette between his fingers turn to ash. But most of the time, he would just drift off into a daze, silently finishing a cigarette before going home.

When faced with troublesome customers, he sometimes laments the pain of his life, sometimes rejoices at making a lot of money, and sometimes feels frustrated about what he's earning money for...

All the joys and sorrows in my heart emanate from this corner.

At this time, there would be footsteps downstairs, and a man leaning against the wall smoking, as if keeping me company and listening to my feelings.

The woman pressed down on her memories, took out her phone, and glanced at the time.

Hopefully, that customer won't come back to bother us anymore. Who wants to deal with annoying unexpected events?

Men are slaves to power, then women are slaves to emotions, and ultimately, everyone is a slave to life.

The woman got up and went upstairs.

……

Hmm... I don't quite understand.

Kaede Azusagawa blinked blankly, only able to sense a familiar yet intense sense of oppression through the atmosphere reflected in the scene and the expressions and tones of the characters' conversations.

This must be what it feels like... Only my brother never said anything like that. He even gave himself a name, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, whether it was becoming a troublesome shut-in or suddenly stepping out of the house to change himself.

“Hah…”

Azusagawa Kaede gave a small yawn and shook her head to stay awake.

I feel like I've already passed the time when it was supposed to end...

However, I still want to fulfill some wishes.

Hua Feng, wait a moment, I want to know what I should... no, I want to find the answer.

……

"A fight?"

The man took out a cigarette, rarely speaking first. He had become accustomed to always encountering another person in this corner where he wanted to relax.

The woman had medicine on her face, wore a white shirt and a black jacket, and her slim-fitting trousers accentuated her legs. She looked somewhat disheveled, but her spirits were high: "Oh dear, I kindly advised a customer not to do something that would lead nowhere, but he didn't appreciate it at all and slapped me so hard I lost several months' worth of wages—is violence also part of a man's nature?"

“There’s no room for that kind of instinct in modern society, unless you’re hitting the kids,” the man said casually. “They probably feel betrayed.”

"Betrayal?" The woman subconsciously raised her hand to her cheek, wincing in pain, then switched hands. "Did he treat me like a servant, or did he see himself as the master?"

"I like you so much, and you won't say yes—that's how it feels, isn't it?" The man said casually, smoking a cigarette. "Feelings are also a cost of investment. If the investment doesn't bring a return, it's naturally unacceptable."

"Forget it, let's not talk about that spoilsport."

The woman narrowed her eyes slightly and said in a mocking tone, "Let's talk about you. You wait for me here every day, don't you plan to go upstairs for a bit?"

"It's just a little mental adjustment before going to work."

"Go to work? Don't you live there?"

“Yes, I work the sleeping shift and the dinner-making shift, and occasionally I take on a shift to help Dad’s mental state.” The man said casually, noticing the curiosity in the other’s slightly widened eyes. “Are you curious? There’s nothing interesting about it, just a failed man and a failed son.”

The woman asked with interest, "You don't like him? What kind of person is he?"

The man thought for a moment and commented, "He is a man who has been successful."

The woman waited curiously, and when she noticed that the other person didn't continue, she couldn't help but urge, "And then?"

"People can overcome failure, but it is difficult to overcome success."

The man smoked, his voice muffled by the smoke: "Success makes people confident, secure, and arrogant. They take it for granted that they have the right to speak based on the flattery and feelings of others. Even if they fail, they will still use the methods that have worked before in order to continue to succeed... However, changes in society, changes in age, and changes in mindset will all cause the methods that worked before to become ineffective."

"Those who have succeeded will only keep repeating new failures, and they will hold on tightly to what they have succeeded in. They cannot give up the praise of others, the wealth of their wallets, the power of their word, and the open and covert smiles. They hysterically want to win it back. When they lose to the point where they cannot comfort themselves, they can blame others and the world."

The man stubbed out his cigarette and pulled out another one: "That's all."

The woman listened silently, then suddenly asked, "You still haven't said whether you like it or not."

"do not like."

"Really?" the woman said teasingly. "You're not a good son."

“He spends all his money at home. He can ask for any amount of money he wants to turn his life around, and I'll give him that. As long as he has enough to eat to survive, I'll give him everything else. He goes on and on about his glorious past, and I never argue with him. I take care of his mental and physical well-being.” The man shrugged. “Is there anyone more filial than me?”

The woman asked, puzzled, "If you don't like him, why are you doing all this?"

"Because I don't have anything I like, what else can I do besides doing things I 'should' do?"

The man suddenly remembered something, took out his phone and glanced at it: "It's time for you to go to work."

"I have plenty of money, so being a little late is no big deal," the woman said magnanimously. Then she looked at the man, her eyes flashing like signal lights, her face showing a subtle, almost seductive expression that seemed to say something but didn't.

The man, smoking a cigarette, pursed his lips and said, "I won't ask you why you're in this line of work if you have money."

The woman clicked her tongue and asked cryptically, "Why?"